All of the shadowy corners of me.

Shallow cut eyes

Burrow deep into my brain

Into fizzling ecstasy

And infinite pain

The sweetest of pains

That light up the sky

In my paper wheat fields

Looking into the lamb’s eye

There is no more cold

Only summer, to doze

Left lonely and broken

And a single dead rose

But the crows fly high

In my October sky

I am no longer shy

And left with a content sigh.